Gift Wrapped by Peter Turnbull

late, with that as his story, ate alone and went up to sleep always looking utterly exhausted. That was the way it was for ten, perhaps twelve months before he disappeared.’
    â€˜All right, that’s a different image.’ Reginald Webster wrote in his notepad. ‘Did he, do you know, have any enemies – any that you know of?’
    â€˜None that I or we ever knew of.’ Tony Wenlock relaxed back in his chair. ‘I mean, he never seemed to be frightened of anything. He was never afraid to go out of the house in the evening, even in the dark nights, nor was he at all afraid to leave the house in the mornings.’
    â€˜Very well.’ Webster again wrote in his notepad. ‘I am sorry if we seem to be clutching at straws but it is early days yet.’
    â€˜I am equally sorry if I am not being of much assistance.’ Tony Wenlock shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of helplessness. ‘Now we have another issue to live with – that our father was murdered.’ Wenlock paused. ‘You know, I feel confident enough to say that if it was murder it is probably, highly likely, in fact, to be a case of mistaken identity, or a random attack by a lunatic who was out looking for a victim and any man would do. He had no enemies and who on earth would want to kill a harmless accountant?’ Tony Wenlock shrugged. ‘Accountants ... we are like librarians – a harmless bunch of souls, we really are ... adding up columns of figures all day. Who are we a threat towards?’
    Carmen Pharoah smiled. ‘Well, I am sure it’s more involved than that but I take your point, sir.’ Then she continued, ‘Can we ask if your family, that is to say your father’s family, benefited in any way from his disappearance?’
    â€˜No, they didn’t; in fact, it made things more difficult. Quite a lot more difficult, I can tell you,’ Tony Wenlock grimaced. ‘The house was fully paid off so that was a blessing. We kept the roof over our heads, and Father had left a nice little portfolio of stocks and shares which kept us going, but we grew to depend on charity shops for clothing and kitchenware. Holidays ... ? We couldn’t even dream about going on holiday ...’
    â€˜Yes, so Mrs Wenlock indicated,’ Reginald Webster commented.
    â€˜So we were certainly not so destitute that Mother had to go out and find a job; we continued to eat and my brother and I were able to continue with our studies without having to find work,’ Tony Wenlock continued. ‘But the insurance company wouldn’t pay out on his life insurance policy without the requisite death certificate. You know, I dare say we can make that claim now, that is, once the DNA test confirms his identity. That will be a useful bit of money for the family.’
    â€˜So ... no hardship but equally no benefit either,’ Carmen Pharoah said. ‘Just the emotional trauma for you to cope with?’
    â€˜Yes, that’s a good way of putting it – no hardship but no benefit either.’ Tony Wenlock nodded. ‘Now we’ll have a funeral to arrange, and that will finally bring some closure for us.’
    â€˜Did your father have friends?’ Reginald Webster asked.
    â€˜I assume so,’ Tony Wenlock replied indignantly. ‘He wasn’t a recluse.’
    â€˜I mean ... sorry ... I mean did he have any friends with whom he was particularly close ... or any brothers or sisters?’ Webster clarified.
    â€˜No and no.’ Tony Wenlock sat forward. ‘He had his drinking mates up at the Fleece but I don’t think he had any really close friends. If he needed someone he’d very likely turn to Mother, come to think of it, and he was an only child, so he had no brothers or sisters to be of assistance in times of need.’
    â€˜So,’ Pharoah said, ‘it would be fair to say that your father’s life revolved around his home, his work and his